


making shades of purple

by pendules



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, The Raven King Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 09:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6747595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendules/pseuds/pendules
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times they say <i>I love you</i> without saying <i>I love you.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	making shades of purple

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking about how that moment in Chapter 59 was basically a love confession and then how _[for him.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pv8e2oLW0v0)_ is basically about them and then this happened.

1\. 

It feels like the end of the world. It feels like everything's been taken away from him in this one moment. Hands. Eyes. He can still feel Ronan's pulse against his fingers as he tried to snuff it out, can remember the air and the life leaving him as he tried to choke them out of him. He's probably going to remember that for the rest of his life. Not that that's going to be long now. It feels like it's almost over. All of it. For both of them. For Cabeswater and every beautiful thing Ronan's brought to life.

And then Ronan utters a line of Latin poetry in his ear like this is an everyday occurrence and it's ridiculous and completely unsurprising and he knows then that no matter what happens, he's not letting this stubborn bastard die.

"You asshole," he exhales, mostly so he won't burst into tears. Of relief. Of despair.

He closes his eyes and rests his head on Ronan's shoulder as his hands are tied together behind him. Ronan's grip gets gentler as his wrists are restrained but he doesn't let go of him. He shouldn't even be near him, he knows, but he can't bring himself to move away from his warm, solid, _breathing_ body. Ronan's been trusting him this whole time, with himself and the Orphan Girl and Matthew, and Adam could have betrayed him at any time, and now he _has_ , and — _he would've let Adam kill him_ , he realises suddenly. He has to save all of them, he knows, he has to _fix_ it, even if means being the sacrifice — but for now, this moment, he just leans against him and trusts Ronan not to let him fall.

 

2\. 

He's woken from a light, dreamless sleep by the sounds of soft gasps coming from the next room. He's suddenly immensely grateful that he hasn't been able to get to sleep properly in the last month. Or at least not the deep, heavy slumber of the eternally exhausted. It still feels too close now — the sound of Ronan slowly dying in the car, his eyes covered and hands bound, being utterly helpless to stop it — and he's out of the bed and down the hall before he can register deciding to move, running on pure instinct. He shoves Ronan's door open and he's still asleep, there's no blood, thank _God_ , but he sounds like he's struggling for breath — Adam hurries to the side of the bed and leans over him. "Ronan," he says, urgent, and he knows he sounds terrified. " _Ronan_." He knows startling him awake isn't the best idea, but he can't bear the thought of something currently trying to murder him in his dreams and only knowing for sure when it's already too late, when he's out of the dream but doesn't ever _wake up_ because his body is torn to fucking shreds. He gently shakes Ronan's arm. "Hey, come on, _Jesus_ — you're scaring me now, asshole — I'm not ready to be a single parent —" 

Ronan takes a long, shuddering breath when he's pulled back to consciousness, like maybe he actually _was_ dead and he's been revived just by Adam's voice and touch.

He looks up at Adam's face like he can't believe he's there. Or maybe the dream was a little too real and he can't believe he's _alive_. 

"Sorry," he says quietly. "I didn't mean —" 

Adam's gotten pretty good at discerning what Ronan needs without him having to ask: slipping his fingers through Ronan's, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, resting a grounding hand on his shoulder. He hasn't needed _this_ yet, though. Somehow, he's been managing his nightmares. Or maybe he just hasn't been sleeping either. But Adam knows he needs it now, so he just gestures for Ronan to move over on the bed. Ronan narrows his eyes at him for a second but doesn't resist. Adam slides under the covers, curls into him, exhales against his neck. Ronan loosely wraps his arm around his waist, warm hand splayed against the bare skin at the small of his back, breathing steadily again.

Adam feels Ronan's heart beating against his own chest. He presses his hand to it between them.

He finally murmurs, "You're okay. I'm here."

"Thank you," Ronan says, in a soft, vulnerable voice he knows is only for this late, silent hour, only for when they're this close to each other.

They sleep until morning and there are no nightmares again.

 

3\. 

One rainy afternoon in April, they decide to build a blanket fort in the living room. In the end, there are teethmarks in most of the blankets but they do a pretty decent job of it anyway.

They sit in the light of dream flowers, ensconced in a tent made of sheets, and they drink hot chocolate and listen to the storm outside while Ronan tells them about the mischief he and Matthew would get into when they were kids and Aurora forbade them to play in the rain.

There's something lighter about him these days, in the set of his shoulders, in the still-unexpected easy smile that always feels like the sun coming up after the longest, coldest, darkest night of the year. He's less quiet, more open, with stories, memories, plans for the future. _Theirs._ It doesn't feel scary anymore, imagining it. It just feels like an inevitability.

Eventually, Opal passes out between them, her head in Ronan's lap, her hooves in Adam's.

They sit in silence just watching each other for what seems like a long time. The steady fall of rain on the roof is almost soothing, peaceful. His mind's perfectly clear and still, which isn't a rare occurrence anymore; it's how he feels most of the time he's here now, most of the time he's with _Ronan_.

"You okay?" Adam asks him after a while. There's a strange expression on Ronan's face, one he's never quite seen there before.

Ronan reaches around Opal's sleeping form to entangle his hand with Adam's.

"Yeah, I'm — I'm _happy_." He says it like it's a surprise to him too.

Adam smiles at him, squeezes his hand.

"I'm glad." And then, quieter, "Me too."

 

4.

Ronan presses the keys to the BMW into his palm. There's still a tense muscle working in his jaw which means this isn't approval, but it _is_ acceptance, grudging as it may be. 

He's been slamming doors all around the Barns since Adam told him he was going back. It's not surprising. The last time Ronan was within spitting distance of his parents' trailer, he'd done just that and as viciously as if it were venom he was hoping would seep deep into the ground, make the soil barren for a hundred years, cause anything living on that land to turn to rot and ruin, turn all the bad memories to ash.

When Ronan says, "Be careful," Adam knows it's not because Ronan thinks that place can hurt him anymore now but because he doesn't want Adam to _let_ it ever again.

He needs to do this, though, he knows. There's no scrubbing those memories out of his brain, but there's the road ahead. The knowledge that they don't have to control him forever. And that's all that matters.

Adam leans up to press a kiss to Ronan's temple. It feels like gratitude. 

"I'll be back before you know it," he promises.

 

5.

The night before Adam leaves for college, they lie on the roof of the equipment shed and look at the stars. The world feels huge, the universe ever-changing and expanding before them. He feels too big for his skin, suddenly. Like he could float away into nothing and everything. Occupy the entirety of space and time all at once. He probably would've happily succumbed to the urge not so long ago. But he has something to keep him tethered to the earth now. 

Ronan turns to him slowly. "Adam?"

"Yeah?" Adam says, turning to meet his gaze. His eyes are bright in the glow of fireflies.

"I'm gonna miss you," he says, voice raw and intense.

Adam reaches out to take his hand, breathing in the warm summer night air, feeling it flow through him, rejuvenate him. It feels like he's absorbing all of it, the last months here with him, every memory and tender moment and night spent on the porch and morning waking up together in his bed and lazy afternoon spent on the couch reading or watching old films or playing with Opal out in the fields or tending to Ronan's dream herd, every kiss over coffee, every brush of shoulders or hips in doorways, every bit of comfort given or received, every precious laugh, every touch and smile and look. It feels like it's all buried deep in his bones now, permanent, everlasting. He'll carry them with him forever.

"I'm gonna miss you too," he says, earnest. "But I'm always gonna come back."


End file.
